Hold Up on Hold On
by MiniNerva
Summary: It's a parody of my story Hold On (*hopefully* Does anyone remember Hold On?) Anyway, it also contains my apology and my 'reason' for the delay . . .


A/N - I know, I know, it's been ages since I posted the last part of Hold On. But between schoolwork, writer's block and family crisis, I haven't been able to get around to writing the rest . . . But it's coming, I promise . . . If anyone remembers it after all this time. Anyway, here's my apology and my 'reason' for the delay . . . 

* * *

Minerva looked around, blinking as she took in her new surrounding. Or rather, her new perspective of her old surroundings.

"I've always wondered what Hogwarts looks like from the point of view of an insect," came Albus' voice from her left. "I suppose this is as close as I'll get to finding out."

Minerva whirled around irritably. "Albus, you could have at least waited to shrink us until we got to Maryland! How are we supposed to get there now?!" 

Albus smiled slightly. "Don't worry Minerva, now that we're so small we can Apparate much farther distances! Come!" He took her hand, and the two of them disappeared.

Several minutes later; Maryland, USA; standing on the chin of a sleeping fifteen year old - 

"Albus," Minerva whispered.

"You needn't whisper," he replied calmly. "No one will hear us."

She whispered on as if she hadn't heard him. "What do we do now?"

"I believe," Albus said, "That we go up the nose." He headed towards that part. Minerva features twisted themselves into a truly odd expression.

"Up the nose?" she repeated faintly. "How - ?"

Albus peered up the aforementioned cavity. "There appears to be a staircase," he said. Then he seized a cluster of hairs and swung up. Minerva trod gently over the set of lips to the base of the nose. Albus extended his hand to her. She shrugged and took it. He pulled her up and together they made their way up the steps to the stone archway labeled with the sign 'Main Transformer'. Under that a smaller sign read 'Caution'.

"Caution?" Minerva repeated, looking ahead at a cobbled street littered with buildings. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Albus looked thoughtful. "I don't quite know."

"Are you sure we should go through with this?" Minerva inquired nervously.

"Of course," Albus said firmly. He started to forge on, then paused. He turned around, a worried look on his face, and said, "You do want - "

"Oh, yes," Minerva interrupted quickly. Albus allowed a small smile.

"Good."

Their destination was an imposing brick building situated on the green in the center of the square. 'Department of Muses' was carved in stone by the front entrance. Albus squared his shoulders.

"Well, this is it," he said. The two lovers exchanged a look, clasped hands, and opened the door.

Once inside they were confronted with an empty reception area.

"Blast it!" Albus exclaimed. "The receptionist is at lunch!"

"What now?" said Minerva in despair.

"Now," said Albus, "I suppose we try to find the right muse ourselves." His paramour gave him a doubtful look, but he ignored her and together they set off down the hallway.

The first door they came to was labeled 'Faculty Lounge - Music Department'. A peek through the keyhole revealed several muses - vaguely female forms of protoplasm - wearing cowboy hats and sitting around and chatting in a bored sort of way. Minerva stepped back in surprise, and they went on.

On the other side of the hall was another faculty lounge, this one empty. The next door was a bathroom. After that they finally came to the first of the offices. It was not, however, the one they wanted. The door was labeled 'Head Muse of the Music Department'. Minerva and Albus turned a corner and went on.

The next offices they encountered were allotted to the guitar muses. They were empty but for the full guitar cases sitting on all the desks. Albus looked at them in sudden comprehension and turned to Minerva.

"The muses we saw in the faculty lounge," he explained. "Apparently the guitar section isn't very busy at the moment."

Minerva nodded to show that she understood. Then she said, "However, the rest of the music department doesn't seem to be so slow. Listen." They did, and they could hear the vague sounds of a female voice. Behind it were conflicting melodies of a violin and a piano. "Well," Minerva said, "Let's push on." 

They wandered past more offices, full of muses hard at work composing songs, trying out a new violin, learning to play the piano, and trying to remember what the heck to do with a flute. Finally a muse from an office labeled 'Muses of Vocals' inquired just where they were headed.

"We're trying to find the muse in charge of, er, Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall," Minerva said. The muse tossed her protoplasmic hair away from her face in an almost contemptuous motion.

"I don't have any contact with that section of the Department of Muses," she said haughtily. "I wouldn't know who is in charge of Mr. Bumblebee and whoever else you said. The fiction muses are housed in the other wing." She waved a vague arm in an equally vague way towards where they had come from. Then she continued on her way without another word. Minerva and Albus looked at each other with raised eyebrows for a moment, then turned around and backtracked. 

In 'the other wing' the first thing they encountered was an irate pair of muses arguing over something or other.

"You can't trust those music people!" one of them said vehemently. "We're better off to just do this story on our own without asking the violin muses. We'll just have to do some extra research on Stradivari and I'm sure we'll be fine. The violin muses are likely to - "

"Excuse me?" said Minerva hesitantly.

"Yes?" said the first irate muse irately.

"I'm looking for the muse in charge of Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall," she said politely. The second irate muse spoke up.

"You'd want to talk to the people in the Harry Potter section then. We're from the Sherlock Holmes section."

"Aha."

"If you go down this hall here and take a left, you'll see the office of the Head Muse in Charge of Harry Potter. She'll be able to tell you who need."

"Thank you," said Dumbledore smoothly, and the two of them left the muses to their irate conversation.

"We still haven't gotten an answer about how old Libby is supposed to be in this story, have we?"

"No, of course not, this department is insufferably slow."

"Well, I suppose the other departments are busy enough . . . The math department, for example - They're lazy, but I think they've been forced by the Boss to wake up and get to work at last . . . "

Minerva and Albus turned left at the end of the hall, and in front of them was the promised office. A knock on the door brought an official-looking muse to answer it.

"Hello," Minerva said, and reiterated the query she had already spoken twice that morning.

"Ah yes," the muse said. "You've come to the right place. I actually am in charge of both Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, as they are the Boss' favorite Harry Potter characters. I do have assistants, but . . . Yes, you would talk to me with any questions." She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"Well, you see," Minerva began hesitantly. "I - Actually - "

"To make a long story short," Albus cut in. "I am Albus Dumbledore, and this is Minerva McGonagall."

An odd look of surprise crossed the muse's vague features, and she sat back in her protoplasmic chair. "Ah," she said. Then, "I see. And you would like to make a request, would you not?"

"We would," Minerva said anxiously. 

"Concerning which story?" the muse asked, taking out a clipboard and paper. She poised one finger over the paper and waited.

"Er . . . " said Minerva.

"Well . . . " said Albus.

"What are our choices?" said Minerva.

The muse sat up a little straighter. "Well, there's the life stories, and there's Hold On, and then there's a good number of stories that aren't titled yet. Why don't you tell me what has happened so far?"

"Briefly," Albus took over, "It takes place around the time of Voldemort's downfall - In fact that just happened not too long ago, and - "

"Go no further," said the muse. "There is only one story that takes place during that time period, and that would be Hold On."

"Ah," said Minerva.

"And now your request."

"Yes," said Minerva. "Well, it has come to our attention that when the last part of, er, Hold On, is finished, Albus and I will no longer be, er, together, as they say."

"Yeeees," the muse prompted.

"And we were wondering if you could perhaps postpone that," Minerva finished in a rush.

"Hhhhh," sighed the muse, and she sat back in her chair. Albus and Minerva looked at each other anxiously, then back at the muse.

"Well," said that person, or rather, form. "I don't think - "

"I'm willing to pay," Minerva blurted. Albus and the muse looked at her in surprise.

"Well," mused the muse. "I don't see what harm it could do; with the SATs coming the Boss doesn't really have time for Hold On. And I could use a vacation . . . But I'm warning you, I can't hold this off forever. The end will come eventually. The Boss is determined to finish this story sooner or later." The muse observed the tears welling in Minerva's eyes, and said kindly, "But I can postpone it, as you say, for a while. I'll keep the Boss in writer's block as long as I can . . . But you had better pay me well - I'm risking my job here!"

Albus pulled a sack of Galleons out of his robes and laid them on the muse's desk. Minerva looked at him in surprise, and he gave her a small smile. "Always come prepared," he said. The muse took the money and deposited it in a drawer, then stood and ushered the lovers to the door.

"Enjoy your time together while you still have it," she said.

"Thank you," said Minerva fervently as Albus tried to shake the muse's hand (it is a bit difficult to shake the hand of a form composed of protoplasm). The muse smiled and said, "Have a nice life!" then backed into her office and shut the door.

"Oh," Minerva sighed. Albus put his arms around her. "Shall we head back to Hogwarts, my sweet?"

"No," Minerva murmured. "I rather think we should go to Shangri-La instead."


End file.
